


Together

by Tiph



Series: Alone [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4947103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiph/pseuds/Tiph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "spin-off" oneshot of the fanfiction Alone, by Sam_Kabaam, taking place during the last chapter.</p><p>Marcus was rescued from the Azgeda after hours of extensive torture and tries to deal with the aftermath of this ordeal with Abby's most needed help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the lovely Sam_Kabaam for proof reading this fic <3

 

''You have to eat, Marcus.''

''Not hungry.''

It hurt to see him like this, withdrawn and distant. He had been back for almost two days and he still had to eat something. Every day she tried, every day she failed. This had to end. Now.

She set down the tray of food and sat on the edge of the bed. He was looking away, lost in thoughts. She took his hand in hers, breathing out sadly when she felt him flinch under her touch.

''Talk to me, Marcus. Please.''

She saw his jaw clench, but he didn't say a word. Desperation hit her, she didn't know what to do. Tending to physical wounds was her job, but psychological ones that ran as deep proved to be way harder to deal with. Specially with a man as stubborn as Marcus, who wouldn't let anyone in.

She had lost him. Twice. He had found his way back to them. She got him back. His body had found its way back. Yet, she knew a piece of him didn't make it home. He was here one moment and the next his mind wandered in some dark place far away. Each time she was afraid that he wouldn't come back, that he would be forever trapped in this hell. That she would lose him again, again and for good.

''My burden.''

She nearly jumped when his voice broke through the maze of her thoughts. He still hadn't moved and for a moment she wondered if her mind was playing tricks on her, but his hoarse voice kept going.

''Mine to carry, not yours.''

Dread settled in her heart. No. She had to help him, she had to take this weight off his shoulders, she had to. Leaving him wasn't an option. Leaving him alone, to deal with what happened on his own, was unthinkable.

''Abby, please. Just leave me alone.''

This time, she was the one who flinched away. His words stroke her, at loss for what to do. Being alone was most probably the last thing he needed right now, yet she knew that forcing him would only drive him further and further away from her and the rest of the world.

For once, she did as she was asked, and got up, leaving a few whispered words in her trail.

''You're not alone.''

 

* * *

 

A salve in one hand and a needle full of anaesthetic in the other, Abby stepped closer to the cot. Marcus was laying on his side, surprisingly following her orders not to sit up without help, eyes closed but awake.

''Hey.''

Her voice was barely above a murmur, to not startle him. His brown and very tired eyes opened slowly and met her gaze in a silent question.

''I have to put salve on the burns.'

He nodded and rolled on his back, a groan escaping his mouth as the sore skin made contact with the bed. She sat down on a chair and pulled back the blanket that was covering his bandaged torso and arms.

He jumped back in a very sudden movement when he felt the cold metal of the needle on his skin.

''Marcus.''

The warning tone was obvious, but he didn't pay attention to it, or more likely, chose not to. The muscles in his face tightened and his lips moved into a thin line, something she had come to recognize as the first signs of an incoming argument. She had been on the receiving end of it way too many times to tell when a storm was building inside him and how to find her way around it without fueling it even more. Both could play this game.

''I don't want it.''

''Don't put up that soldier attitude on me.''

The look in his eyes instantly hardened, making her almost regret her words. Almost. She knew what buttons to push, how to get under his skin and anger him. She learnt that it was the only way to get what he wanted. Because there had to be something else. Abby knew it was past the simple _dislike_ of needles and had a deeper meaning. The only thing was to find it. To find it and figure out a solution. Easy.

His voice was calm when he spoke next, yet there was this desperate wish for her to understand, to accept his decision.

'' _I_ don't need it.''

There it was. That slight accentuation on the first word, that slight accentuation that made her hear what he wouldn't say. She should have known.

''The anaesthesia comes from Mount Weather, and there is plenty of it. And even if there wasn't, you would still take it because your Doctor, Chancellor and the woman you love is asking it.''

She considered his small smile as a personal and great victory.

 

* * *

 

Her fingers followed the too many scars that run over his body, her touch lighter than a feather, barely skimming the rough and reddened skin. After almost a week of daily cares she could retrace them by heart, every single one.

She watched as his chest raised and fell steadily. She had sneaked sleeping herbs in his drink, a very tricky way to get him to rest without nightmares haunting his mind. He barely managed to get a couple of hours of sleep before they came and then wouldn't fall asleep again, waiting for the sunrise to wash away the horrors of the night.

''Will he be okay ?''

The voice startled her. She looked over her shoulder to see Bellamy carefully approaching, surprised to find him here. The young man had been doing his best to avoid medical at all costs, going as far as to send in Clarke when he needed something.

Abby followed his look down on the chest covered in scars. Guilt passed over his face for a moment before he hid it under layers of well practiced expressionless features. Just like Marcus used to do, and still does at times.

Bringing back her focus on the man laying in front of her, she went to work, knowing that he wouldn't like the idea of being half-naked in front of an audience. Not that he would know anything.

She did her best to ignore the dark circles under his eyes, or the hollow cheeks caused by his sudden weight loss. Instead, she focused on unrolling a new set of bandages and sterilized gauze, her eyes never moving away from his still form.

''Some scars will fade away in time. Others won't.''

 

* * *

 

His eyes snapped open. He sat up with a start, barely registering the pain that shot up through his body. He was out of breath, struggling to get his lungs working as the images of his nightmare replayed over and over in his head.

A hand grabbed his. He recognized the feeling. Abby. He tried to say her name, but it came out more like a choked sob. She brought his shaking hand to her chest, her breathing deliberately loud as she instructed him to follow her lead. It took time, but he managed to get his breathing back under control, his eyes now firmly closed, trying to calm down.

''I was back there, they...''

He needed to let it out. To let everything out. He felt her thumb brush away a fallen tear. A reassuring smile graced her lips, not a single word was uttered, she knew he had to do this by himself. To let it go.

A pain-filled breath came out of his mouth.

''It hurt, Abby... Oh God, it hurt so much...''

He broke down when her answer was to wrap her arms around him. Head in her shoulder, he cried, heart-wrenching sobs teared apart his throat.

_Nails piercing his palms._

_Wolf teeth bitting his flesh._

_Blood on his hands. His men's blood._

_Whips ripping apart his skin._

_Gore dripping, making his stomach turn in revulsion_.

Abby released the hug after a while, gently easing the sleeping man down. She wiped away tears, glad that he hadn't seen her own distress. She had to be strong for him. Just as he was for her when she needed it. She leaned down and pecked him softly on the forehead.

 

* * *

 

His body was on fire. It was the first thing he noticed when he woke up, his heart pounding and his body aching. With a groan, he opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light that assaulted him.

There wasn't a single sound. He looked around, panicked when he didn't see anyone. When he didn't see Abby.

What if the Azgeda had taken her ?

With that only thought in mind, he sat up. He had to find her, to make sure she was okay. He swung his legs on the side of the cot, the fog in his head didn't go away. He blinked several times to get rid of the sweat that stung his eyes.

Someone was standing in front of him.

Nia.

His first instinct was to move back as far as possible, but his muscles wouldn't work. He stiffened under her hard, disdainful glare. Fear stroke him when she extended an arm towards him.

''Trust me.''

No. He wasn't to be fooled so easily. He swallowed and in one defiant movement, got up on his unsteady legs, ignoring his first instinct to back away far from her.

One step.

Two steps.

Dizziness overcame him. His knees buckled under him, he fell hard on the floor, voices erupted over his head. He tried to escape from the hands that were holding him down, panic ruled his body. The last things he heard before blacking out were his own pleas.

 

* * *

 

''No.''

''Abby, it would be better for everyone, we can't risk another episode like this. It's way too dangerous, both for him and the other patients.''

''I said no. End of discussion.''

Jackson sighed in frustration, throwing his hands in the air. They had been arguing for the past ten minutes and neither of them was ready to drop the subject. He was sure that the only person who would be able to get her to listen to reason was currently the one suffering from a high fever.

He opened his mouth once again to try to convince her but was cut off by her virulent retort.

''We are _not_ cuffing him to the bed.''

''For his own safety !''

Abby ignored Jackson's feeble attempts and turned back to Marcus. She heard her medical assistant scoff and walk away as she reached for a now dry cloth and dipped it in a bucket of cold water. His face was pale except from the blushes on his cheeks, and his whole body was drenched in sweat.

In his delirium, Marcus had pulled several stitches from the whip wounds on both his back and stomach. She had stitched him back while he was unconscious, taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't able to fight back.

She tapped his skin softly with the cloth, being extra careful not to damage his wounds further more. The damp cloth did his work, effectively cooling his body temperature down, at least for a while.

Abby breathed out a sigh of relief. She was beyond exhausted but refused to leave him even for an hour. Specially now that Jackson was convinced that Marcus should be tied down. No, there was no way she was going to inflict such a wicked treatment to him, and if the price to pay was to stay awake at his side for another day or two then be it.

 

* * *

 

''Come on, Kane, wake up.''

Clarke leaned down, whispering in the unconscious man's ear.

''You need to come back. Really come back. The Camp needs you, Mom needs you. You scared her, even though she won't admit it. You have to come back, if not for you then for her, and... for me.''

''You're the only person here who knows what I'm going through. The pain, the grief, the guilt… Bellamy understands, Mom understands, but they don't _know_. They don't feel it like I do, and like, I guess, you do too. Every night I see them, I see their faces. They haunt me and I don't know what to do to make them go away, to forgive myself. Is that even possible ?''

''I saw pictures from years ago, when you and my parents were young... Why don't you smile anymore ? Am I going to change like you did ? To stop believing ?''

 

* * *

 

''Marcus, stop that !''

''But it itches !''

She will forever deny the fact that his whiny voice was one of the cutest thing she had ever heard. Abby was laying on her side, curled up next to Marcus, her hand in the crook of his shoulder. She breathed in his smell, the happiest she had been since this whole ordeal started.

Marcus pouted but stopped scratching the scar on his wrist. For a few seconds. However, before his hand had the time to reach his wrist again, Abby moved and trapped his arm under her, sending him a victorious, smug smile. He sighed but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his lips, and kissed the top of Abby's head.

Things still weren't perfect, back as they were before, and they still had a long way to go on the journey back to recovery. Yet, things were looking a lot better, both Abby and Marcus were ready to face the incoming obstacles, together.

 


End file.
